


When You Smile, You Smile

by Bittercape (bittercape)



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hot and sweet, M/M, Oral Sex, vague hints of non-human anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24216589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittercape/pseuds/Bittercape
Summary: Tjelvar falls asleep by the river and is pleasantly woken by Ed.Heed the tags, please.
Relationships: Edward Keystone/Tjelvar Stornsnasson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 69





	When You Smile, You Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arazsya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arazsya/gifts).



> This is for the captain of this ship. With my love and adoration, I hope you enjoy.

There’s a hint of a breeze coming through the valley. It brings the smell of pine and grass, of green and lush things that are sadly lacking on the dig site, which is mainly packed earth and dust, except for the river a short distance east of their camp. Tjelvar opens his shirt to the chance of a brief cooling down and cracks his back, stretching. He might take a break, or even take the rest of the day off. The prospect of a dip in the river is too good to keep working.

He walks over to the table where Edward is carefully brushing off a large shard of pottery with an intricate carved pattern. There are several other pieces on the table in various stages of cleaning, and it looks like they’re only missing one piece to complete a large bowl. Tjelvar has hopes of finding the last piece in his next expansion, so that Edward can reassemble the bowl for them to send off to the museum in Cairo. Such a delicate hand, Edward has, especially for someone so strong and adept with fighting. He’s so careful with their finds, be it pottery or jewellery or bones. Edward never minds spending long hours doing fiddly work under a sun that sometimes bothers Tjelvar, but then again he is loved by Apollo. Anyone could see it, Tjelvar thinks, with the way his skin tans slowly (evenly, beautifully) without ever burning, and the way the sunlight makes his hair shine. 

Something makes Edward look up, and when he sees Tjelvar, he gives the most beautiful smile, entirely delighted, as though they didn’t have lunch together just a few hours ago. As though they haven’t been on this site together for months, and alone for the past week. 

“Tjelvar,” he says, and Tjelvar falls a little bit more in love. Just the way he says his name is enough to make his knees wobbly. This can’t be healthy, Tjelvar chastises himself, and does his best to seem normal. Unaffected. By the widening of Edward’s grin, he’s not particularly successful.

“Want to come down to the river for a swim, Eddie?” He can feel the grit from the loose earth he’s been digging through itching along his hairline.

“Yeah, sure! I’ll just get this one done and then I’ll be down,” Edward replies, holding up his shard, which is indeed almost entirely clean after Edward’s careful brushing. Tjelvar nods, appreciating Edward’s dedication to his work and also regretting not getting him to come along immediately. But every second is making Tjelvar feel more sweaty and dirty and gritty, and he heads down to the river by himself. 

The river is almost too cool to be comfortable after hours in the sun, but it is very refreshing, and after a few minutes Tjelvar relaxes completely in the water, rinsing the dirt from his hair and the sand from between his toes and the sweat from everywhere in between. When he’s done, he wraps his towel around his hips and lies down on a flat rock, halfway in the shade of some scraggly bushes, to dry off and wait for Edward. He lies with his hands behind his head, eyes closed, listening to the call of the plover birds, and enjoys both the sun and the shade.

He’s not certain how long it’s been when he’s woken up by a hand stroking down his chest, very slowly. He opens his eyes to see Edward sitting next to him, sun shining on his hair, catching on a few loose strands that seem to wave in a wind that doesn’t exist, golden and beautiful. Edward is looking at him, almost transfixed, trailing his fingers through the coarse, dark chest hair. Slowly, hypnotically. It feels unreasonably good, warm and soft and careful, and Tjelvar sighs in bliss. Edward smiles a little broader and moves his hand to stroke around a nipple, without touching, and then back to the centre of his chest. 

Tjelvar has never had any particular thoughts about his nipples. They’re just … there, not functional for anything, just a feature of his body like his earlobes or toes. He’s certainly not prepared for the jolt that goes through him when Edward passes his hand back and this time, pinches his nipple just a bit harder than he expects. It’s like sparkles, a line of brilliant fire straight to his cock, and he is fully hard before he’s fully awake.

Edward seems pleased at his gasp, but doesn’t move to do anything different. He just keeps stroking Tjelvar’s chest, occasionally flicking or stroking or pinching a nipple, until Tjelvar is squirming. The look on Edward’s face would be wicked on anyone else, but on him it’s just happy. He leans down to give one nipple a quick lick, and Tjelvar can’t contain his moan. He can feel Edward grin against his chest, and the exploring hand starts stroking downwards, torturously slow, light and yet firm. Edward follows with his mouth, but so slowly that his hand manages several tours down and up the dark trail of hair before his mouth reaches the edge of the towel. 

And then he stops.

There’s no way for Tjelvar to stop the whine when Edward seems to just be resting his head on his stomach, continuing his stroking, but keeping his head still. His hand keeps skirting the edge of the towel. Long, silent moments pass, and Tjelvar has time to catch his breath slightly, to vaguely recognise the ripple and flow of the river below, the sun on his skin. Just to make sure, Tjelvar has to let him know.

“Eddie, it’s … if you want to go on, I wouldn’t mind.” Edward laughs and looks up at him.

“I know, Tjelvar. I’m just taking my time,” he replies, and Tjelvar is sure there is a teasing glint in his eyes. He doesn’t really have the time to think about it though, because Edward opens the towel, folds it out, and buries his face in the crease between leg and groin, inhaling deeply. 

“You smell so good,” he murmurs, the vibrations of his voice making Tjelvar’s cock twitch, right next to his ear. Edward laughs again, happy and carefree, and moves to settle between Tjelvar’s legs in a smooth, fluid motion. He still seems to want to take his time though, and Tjelvar doesn’t want to rush him, but he’s also … not exactly impatient, but increasingly eager and moving rapidly towards frustrated. Edward smiles so brightly at him, though, so he remains still. Humming, Edward strokes both hands down the inside of his thighs, all the way from his knees to his groin. His hands are broad and warm, and Tjelvar easily lets his legs flop outwards. 

Edward continues his slow, gentle exploration with his hands. Runs his fingers one by one up and down Tjelvar’s cock. Circles the head carefully with one, then two, then three fingers. Pokes curiously at the bumpy ridge on the underside of the shaft, before giving a single, firm upwards stroke. The noise Tjelvar makes is uncontrolled and rough, almost a growl, and his hips shudder, despite his efforts to stay still. Edward looks very pleased, and for a moment the sun seems to make him shimmer, to Tjelvar’s eyes, at least. Then he leans down and repeats the exploration with his mouth. The difference between his warm, dry fingers and the wet heat of his tongue is almost shocking, and Tjelvar’s growl is long and deep, unrestrained, not something a human throat would be capable of. When Edward kisses along his ridge he has to twist his hands in the towel to keep them from gripping his hair and just pushing inside his mouth. He won’t do that, he won’t, but the temptation is very real. 

Tjelvar does not expect Edward to slide downwards and oh-so-carefully suck his balls into his mouth, one after the other, but the unexpectedness of it makes it entirely overwhelming. The wet heat of Edward’s mouth is nearly too much, and at the same time not quite enough, turning his growl into a whine. If he had the mental capacity he would have enjoyed how easy it is to feel someone smile when their mouth is entirely around the most vulnerable part of him, but as it is, he just reels from the change in sensation. His thighs are shaking continuously and uncontrollably, he feels like he’s hovering right on the edge -and then Edward really gets to work.

He keeps a firm hand on the base of Tjelvar’s cock, preventing him from coming too soon, while the other keeps fondling his balls, and when he finally, finally takes Tjelvar’s cock into his mouth, the sensation is so intense he nearly blacks out. He has lost control over his hips and would have fucked up into Edward’s mouth if not for the firm grip at the base of him, but Edward effortlessly stays in control. Tjelvar is getting so close, but Edward’s grip keeps him away from the edge. Until, all at once, he relaxes his grip, rubs his thumb over the ridge hard, and gives his balls a gentle tug. Tjelvar doesn’t even have time to warn him, but explodes into his mouth, ripping the towel and roaring his pleasure to the sky.

It takes him a surprisingly long time to come down from the high of his orgasm enough to focus on anything outside himself, but when he manages to open his eyes again, Edward is smiling down at him. Everything is quiet, the sun is gentle on his skin, and Edward looks happier than he’s ever been. 

“You’ve scared away the birds,” Edward says, happily. “But they’ll be back later. Did you enjoy that?” Tjelvar manages to raise an eyebrow at him.

“I think it’s rather obvious I did,” he grins, and reaches up to pull Edward down for a kiss. He can taste himself on his tongue, something he wasn’t aware he would like, but he can feel a vaguely possessive pleasure tingle along his spine. Edward smiles against his lips and keeps kissing him until Tjelvar flips them over. Time for payback. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have headcanons about orcish anatomy that I might get more into in a later fic, but feel free to ask if you have questions. 
> 
> Title from "At Last" by Etta James


End file.
